


To Be So Lonely

by NothingSoDivine



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: 2021 babyyyy I'm still doing the wuzzles thing, Covid-19 is Ruining My Ability to Write Believable Social Interactions, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feels, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, I had to write something for this, I skipped the exposition for y'all because I couldn't be bothered to rehash it, I'd say fight me but it's pretty clear nobody else cares, I'm still disappointed that there isn't a canonical tag for normal hugging, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, OT3, Post-Season/Series 03, Reunions, Skin Hunger, Touch-Starved, Touchy-Feely, Trevor and Sypha are DTF, WUZZLES!, We all know what happened, alucard is lonely, sounds like OT3-bait to me, the only hugging tag is non-consensual hugging and I'm not about that, there are no tags relating to covid yet and that feels like a crime so I'm creating one, this is thoroughly consensual and much-needed hugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingSoDivine/pseuds/NothingSoDivine
Summary: “We saw the bodies, what happened?”Yet another "Trevor and Sypha come back and find their future third in need of hugs" fic, there are about a million of them by now but there can never be too many.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 12
Kudos: 84





	To Be So Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something about skin hunger (aka being touch-starved, yes that's the technical term and yes it sounds way more metal than it is) and the S3 finale of Netflix's Castlevania was _right there_. as of me writing this, Ontario is still under lockdown because of The Plague, and I live alone so it's hitting in some very specific ways that mapped well onto Chronic Sadboi™ Adrian Tepes. so I wrote this short dumb indulgent reunion fic. it's nowhere near as good as a bunch of the other ones I read, nor a bunch of my other work, but I honestly don't care. although it hasn't been beta'd so if you notice any typos please lmk

Alucard is on his way back from the creek with a bucket of water in either hand when he catches their scent and stops dead in his tracks.

For a long, terrible moment, he doesn't recognize it; it's been so long the memory has faded to the point where, when he first scents them on the air, all he can feel is the tears springing to his eyes. Then the aching familiarity takes shape — names, faces, voices.

 _It can't be,_ he thinks, half-blind with hope, and he takes off running.

He's almost to the ruined castle door, water buckets forgotten in his hands, when he hears them. Trevor is calling his name, voice echoing through the front hall; Sypha's voice is quieter, apparently scolding Trevor for something. Alucard's heart leaps. He hasn't heard either of their voices in far too long, but he'd recognize them anywhere.

The buckets fall from his hands as he lunges forward. By the time they hit the ground, he's at the top of the stairs, trying to determine where the voices are coming from, and whether they're there at all.

"— has no front door, Sypha; barging in is the least of my concerns." Trevor's voice spills from an open doorway about halfway down the hall. Alucard knows he should go look, or speak up, or something, but he can't. He wants to call out to them, to run down the hallway and throw himself at them just to prove they're there, but he can't bring himself to move. He's scared of testing it, for fear it'll turn out to just be a dream. It would be far from the first time he's dreamed of such a thing in the past months; this feels faintly different than any time he's dreamt it before, just a little more real, but the possibility is still there and still terrifying.

"Alucard!" Trevor calls again. His voice carries like nobody else's; it's full and deep, not ringing hollow like the echo Alucard has heard in his dreams. His heart leaps, and there's nothing he can do to calm it.

"I'm here," he says. It comes out as a whisper, barely audible to his own sharp ears.

"— still seems rude to just yell for him like a poorly trained dog," Sypha says. Her voice is getting clearer, _nearer_ , and Alucard can hear two sets of footsteps so familiar it hurts. "This is his _home_ ; aren't there rules against just wandering in?"

"I will say again, Sypha: the man has no front door; half of the rules are impossible now any— _agh!_ Jesus! Alucard! When did you get there?"

Alucard can't respond. He watches dumbly as Sypha comes rushing out of the room after Trevor to stare at him. "Alucard," she says, bright and relieved, and starts towards him. "There you are."

"Sypha," he manages faintly. Trevor has apparently gotten over his initial shock; he lopes down the hall towards Alucard, still frozen in place at the top of the stairs.

"Are you all right?" Sypha asks, and doesn't wait for an answer. "Sorry about Trevor, I swear he has no manners at all—"

"We saw the bodies, what happened?" Trevor interrupts, and Alucard finally has to blink, to keep the rising tears at bay. The motion of his eyelids doesn't dispel the image of the two people stopping in front of him, though, and he takes it in with a strange kind of desperation. Sypha's hair is longer, Trevor's stubble thicker, and they're both sporting a handful or more of new scars. Alucard's tears are choking his throat; he tries in vain to swallow past the tightness.

Sypha looks concerned. Trevor looks worried. They look so real. "Alucard?" Trevor asks, uncharacteristically tentative.

Alucard is reaching out before he realizes what he's doing. He hesitates for a moment, fingers hovering maybe a quarter-inch away from skin, one hand stretching out for each of them. He can feel the heat coming off them; the figures he's seen in dreams make no heat. They're both just looking at him, wide-eyed.

He reaches just a little further. His fingers touch skin — the softness of Sypha's cheek first, then the roughness of Trevor's jaw under his other hand, and the tears in his eyes surge up again, demanding freedom. He holds them back, but only barely.

"Hey." Trevor's voice is gentle like Alucard has never heard it. He reaches up and rests his fingers against the back of Alucard's hand, pressing it gently against his face and holding it there, and Alucard turns his full attention to him. His eyes are wide and expressive; he looks worried and faintly bewildered. "What is it?"

Alucard inhales to try and answer, but the scent of them ( _TrevorandSypha, SyphaandTrevor,_ he can't put their names to it because he can't put one in front of the other, it's just _them_ ) fills his nose and seeps across the back of his tongue and it smells like battle and trust and safety and all the things he's missed so much it hurts. His palm is tingling where it's pressed to the skin of _another person, here, finally._

"Trevor," he says, and starts to cry.

"Oh my god," he hears Sypha say, and then Trevor is reaching out to touch him, cupping Alucard's face with his free hand the way Alucard is holding his. The contact feels like magic burning in his bloodstream; he pulls his hand away from Sypha's face to clutch at Trevor's wrist with barely controlled desperation, and even through the curtain of tears he can see Trevor notice the scar on his wrist.

"What did they do to you?" he asks, and his voice is gentle but steely all the same, a simmering, protective anger that Alucard can hear so clearly it makes him dizzy. He can't answer; it's all he can do to breathe, to hold Trevor's wrist without risk of breaking it as the tears pour down his face. He gulps down air, shakes his head helplessly.

A hand lands on his shoulder, and sparks skid under Alucard's skin. It's Sypha's, slender and nimble and strong. "Alucard," she breathes, voice fragile with sorrow and sympathy. "Are you all right?"

Alucard takes a shuddering breath. "No," he whispers, and that's all he can manage before the tears drown him out.

"Jesus Christ," Trevor says, and his hand vanishes from Alucard's, but before he can even react to the loss of that point of contact, Trevor's grabbing him by the shoulder and reeling him into an embrace.

Alucard makes a horrid noise (weak, desperate, needy) and clutches at him, buries his face in Trevor's shoulder and grabs two fistfuls of the back of Trevor's tunic. Trevor wraps both arms around him, laying his broad hands across Alucard's back like armour. It feels like his back has been torn open for months, bloody and vulnerable; the warmth of Trevor's hands closes the wounded feeling effortlessly. Alucard tightens his grip, and the seams of Trevor's tunic creak in protest; he forces his fingers to uncurl, flattens his palms against Trevor's body (warm, solid, _here_ ) and tugs him in as close as he can get.

"It's okay," Trevor is murmuring absently. "It's okay, we're here, we've got you. It'll be okay." Alucard can feel Trevor's voice rumbling in his chest almost as clearly as he can hear it; it's soothing, like the purr of some enormous cat.

Sypha's hand is stroking up and down Alucard's arm, trailing warmth through the fine linen of his shirt. He wants to hold her just as much, but with the sobs wracking his body, he couldn't ask even if he knew how. "Sypha," he manages between gasps. It's somewhere between a request, a question, an invitation, and a plea, but apparently she understands him just fine, because she steps up to his side and wraps her arms around him and Trevor.

Alucard whines, and hates himself for it.

"It's okay," Trevor murmurs. "It'll be okay. We've got you."

Alucard sobs and hides his eyes in Trevor's shoulder. Sypha is radiantly warm against his side; he spares one hand from Trevor's back to wrap his arm around her, and she nestles right in, resting her chin on Alucard's shoulder. Her arm settles easily around his waist, her hand landing just above his hip. It feels protective and politely possessive; "We've got you," Trevor says again, and Sypha's grip says the same.

"I," Alucard sobs, and Sypha shushes him gently.

"It's okay," she says. "Take your time."

Trevor moves a hand from Alucard's back to stroke his hair, and Alucard crumples into their hold and cries himself out.

* * *

When the tears finally stop, Alucard takes several deep breaths and tells them the whole story.

* * *

He starts crying again long before he's done.

Trevor and Sypha listen quietly while he explains, even when his tears interrupt, even when he crumples to the floor and wraps his arms around his knees like a frightened child. They just sit down with him and wait for him to catch his breath. They're not holding him any more, but they're still touching him, both of them too reluctant to let him go. The contact makes the story, somehow, a little easier to tell.

By the end of it, he feels simultaneously better and worse. He feels raw, exposed, and scrubbed hollow from all the crying, but he feels lighter, too, now that there are other people who know. When he's done, there's a long pause before anyone speaks.

"I didn't know you were into men," Trevor says finally.

Sypha swats him on the arm. "Trevor!" she scolds, but Alucard scoffs, then chuckles, and then he's giggling with a hysteria that's been simmering in him since they left. Trevor's hand is on Alucard's knee; he rests his forehead against it and giggles until he's sobbing again, though his eyes are finally dry. He can feel two sets of eyes on him, two concerned gazes. Trevor's hand smells like dirt and blood and leather and Trevor-and-Sypha, Sypha-and-Trevor, it's her scent soaked into his skin and Alucard wants to get drunk on it.

With some effort, he stills his heaving lungs, evens out his breathing, and straightens up. Trevor and Sypha are looking at him with a level of concern that he's vain enough to find gratifying. He leans back against the railing, drapes his arms over his lap. The tension in his body has been easing since he first touched them and found they were real; even with his back to the missing door, he feels safer than he's felt in months.

He meets Trevor's eyes and cracks a sardonic smile. "You're more obtuse than I gave you credit for, Belmont," he says before he has a chance to think better of it. It comes out harsh but faintly hollow; his voice sounds a little rusty from first disuse and now overuse. He's out of practice; it's making him too honest.

Trevor blinks. "I beg your pardon," he says, and Alucard can tell he understood perfectly.

"Alucard," says Sypha, and she sounds faintly alarmed.

"You two are fucking, aren't you," Alucard says bluntly, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the railing. It exposes his throat; it's glorious to not have to care, but that might be in the process of changing. He feels the tension start to creep back into his shoulders, and sighs heavily. Hopefully he didn't just fuck everything up.

He doesn't get a response, for long enough that he considers opening his eyes. Then Trevor's hand shifts on his knee.

"Yes," Trevor says hesitantly.

"That's fine," says Alucard, and tries not to sound as bitter as he feels. "I won't intrude. You two can just continue with what you've got going on, and I'll stay here and keep minding the castle. Not like it'll drive me crazy or anything," he finishes, and realizes his tone has slipped from matter-of-fact to desperate. He doesn't dare open his eyes.

Sypha shifts the foot she's got tucked against Alucard's hip. "Can I ask you something?" she murmurs.

Alucard cracks an eye at her. "Yes?"

Her eyes are wide as they search his face. "Is it... just him?" she asks, and Alucard is suddenly sick to death of all this hesitance.

"I'm in love with both of you," he says, too harsh and too loud but he's glad he said it. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yes," she says. She sounds startled.

Alucard closes both eyes again. "Good."

Trevor's thumb is tracing a gentle arc back and forth across the side of Alucard's knee. Alucard savours the contact with the distant knowledge that it might be the last he gets. He has nothing left to say, so he waits. They'll pull away eventually; he soaks up their touch while it lasts, Trevor's hand on his knee and Sypha's leg tucked alongside his own. He hears them shifting, no doubt having some sort of silent attempt at conversation. He leaves his eyes closed. When he needs to pay attention, he has no doubt they'll make it clear.

Sypha pulls away first, but before Alucard can even sigh, he feels her turning around and nestling into his side instead. His eyes fly open, and he stares at her. She smiles up at him. Then Trevor pulls away too, and Alucard watches, stunned silent, as he shifts around to press up against Alucard's other side, then turns his head and raises one eyebrow, almost challengingly.

There's another long pause. Alucard glances from Trevor to Sypha. They're both watching him silently; while Trevor looks like he's challenging Alucard to question him, Sypha is simply smiling, warm and open and infinitely patient.

"I beg your pardon?" he says. There's too little air in his lungs to make it carry, but they're _right here_ , leaning against him from shoulders to knees and bleeding warmth into him. He's still desperately soaking up the touch, and it's still leaching all the tension out of him.

"We missed you," Trevor says gruffly. It doesn't sound like an answer, but Alucard suspects it's the closest thing he'll get.

"We missed you a lot," Sypha adds, tipping her head down to rest on his shoulder.

Alucard takes a moment to just breathe. It's getting easier with every breath. "I missed you, too," he whispers, still just a little in shock at their response, and rests his head back against the railing.

The three of them stay like that for several long minutes. It's such a relief, having them back again — being able to touch someone again, being with people he knows he can trust. Alucard hadn't realized how much tension his muscles had been holding until Sypha and Trevor started draining it out of him; now that it's gone, his persistent exhaustion is taking over. It's so cozy, though, sitting here between the two of them; they're warm, and affectionate, and Alucard's eyelids are getting far too comfortable where they are.

With a reluctant groan, Alucard drags his eyes open and straightens up. "God, I'm falling asleep where I sit," he observes, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I need a damn nap."

Sypha gives his knee a gentle squeeze. "That sounds like a good idea," she says.

"You look like you haven't been sleeping," Trevor notes. "If you think you can sleep, you should do it."

"Mm," says Alucard, and contemplates standing up.

"Is there anything we can do to be useful while you're sleeping?" Sypha asks.

Alucard doesn't need to think about it for even half a second, but he hesitates. The last thing he wants right now is to push them away by trying to get closer to them, but he's not fully sure how they'll respond to his request.

 _Fuck it,_ he decides. _Sypha did offer._ If she didn't mean it, that was her fault.

"Don't leave me," he says. It comes out sounding desperate; he clears his throat and tries again. "Stay with me, I mean."

"We just got here, we're not going anywhere," Trevor replies.

"That's not what I mean," Alucard says, then sighs and does his best to get his thoughts in order.

"Then what do you mean?" Sypha asks, nudging him gently. It's friendly, playful. He'd managed to forget, somehow, what a genuine delight she is to have around.

"Come to bed with me," he blurts out, then scrambles to qualify it because he knows exactly how that sounds. "I just want to sleep, but I— I don't want to be alone."

"Oh," says Sypha pleasantly.

"Oh," Trevor echoes.

"Well, I'm not tired enough to sleep, but I'm happy to keep you company," Sypha tells him.

"I could actually use a nap too, now that we're talking about it," Trevor decides.

Alucard blinks at them. "Oh," he says. "That was easy."

Sypha giggles. "Now, now. Don't call Trevor easy; he gets offended, even if it is true," she says, clambering to her feet and turning to offer Alucard a hand up. Her eyes are sparkling, and there's a mischievous smile playing across her mouth.

"Oi, rude," Trevor retorts, dragging himself gracelessly upright. "You're the one who's planning to hang out in bed with us and _not_ sleep."

"Well, I was invited," Sypha replies as Alucard takes her offered hand. She pulls him to his feet with surprising ease. "Not being tired seems like a silly reason to say no to an invitation like that."

For the first time in ages, Alucard feels a genuine, irrepressible smile pulling at his mouth. "I suppose so," he says. It's so good to have them back.

"Lead the way," Trevor says with an ostentatious gesture, and Alucard is happy to oblige.

**Author's Note:**

> I have at least one more version of this reunion on my mind, plus a modern university AU slow-burn fic. [come join my (PG-13) Discord server](http://www.nothingsodivine.carrd.co) to thirst with me over Alucard in skinny jeans


End file.
